


Striking Matches on Marble

by Flanemoji



Series: Not So Set in Stone [3]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Adult Themes, Both characters are 18+ !, Kissing, M/M, NSFW, Nipple Play, Oral Fixation, alternate universe- eddie is a statue, first time sexual encounter, handjob, not sure what else to tag, statue Eddie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:41:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26139055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flanemoji/pseuds/Flanemoji
Summary: “Wow…” Eddie repeats, even more amazed than before.“Well… I wouldn’t say all that.” Eddie is fixated on the way his mouth moves when he talks.“Can I kiss you?”————After living his whole life as a statue in the park, Eddie Kaspbrak realizes he’s been missing out on some wonderful experiences.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Series: Not So Set in Stone [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1898140
Comments: 6
Kudos: 81





	Striking Matches on Marble

As soon as they realized what had happened, they ran. 

Thank god for Richie, who in that moment took charge and made sure Eddie was okay. He’d grabbed his hand and pulled, dragging the two of them out of the park and into his car on the side street. His mother had been screaming and crying the whole time, a public display of hysterics that was sure to wake up the entire neighborhood. To Eddie, they felt like crocodile tears. 

Eddie, for his part, felt like he was in a trance. Richie shoved him into the passenger side seat and buckled him in, blocking his mother, who had followed them out to the street, from view. He grabbed Eddie’s face in his hands, so gently like he might break now, after everything, and held it for a moment. 

_ “You okay?”  _

Eddie had just stared. He’d glanced over Richie’s shoulder to his sobbing mother, and shook his head. He’s not sure from where he found the voice to speak. 

_ “I wanna leave.”  _

That’s all it took. Richie nodded and closed the door. He muscled his way past Eddie’s mother, who was doing her best to make a scene. She banged on Eddie’s window, screeched about protection and love and some other bullshit. 

_ That’s not love _ , Eddie had thought.  _ I know what love is now.  _

Richie had reached his hand out towards Eddie’s, and the touch shocked him out of his thoughts. It was overwhelming, almost, the way things felt against his skin now. Richie was patient, though, and touched only the tips of his fingers to the top of Eddie’s hand. It was new, and scary… but anything with Richie felt right. 

Eddie traced the lines on Richie’s palm for the whole ride, enamored with how he could feel all the little bumps and ridges.

Richie drove them to a little roadside motel. Eddie stayed in the car while Richie got them checked in. He touched every surface he could; the steering wheel was smooth and warm, and the seat was fuzzy. There were little cubes hanging from a mirror in the middle and those felt extra soft. 

“Alrighty, were booked for the night.” Richie opened Eddie’s door for him, smiling at his shoes. “Kinda shitty for a first date out of the park but… I figured Mommy Dearest wouldn’t come to a place like this.” He points behind them, shuffles dirt with his shoes. “You, uh… you wanna go inside?” 

Eddie stares at him, hands tucked neatly into his lap. He nods and hops out of the car, feeling a little wobbly on his legs. It’s been a long time since he’s used them so much. Richie gives him a decent bit of space between them, walking them to a green door at the end of the complex. He opens it and stands to the side, motioning for Eddie to pass first. 

“Chivalry ain’t dead, am I right?” Richie offers that shy smile again. 

Eddie quirks his lips a little, but can’t do much more. He walks through the threshold into the room and stands in the corner, making himself as small as possible. Suddenly, he feels awkward in his skin, too small for his clothes. They’re still that same stony grey, hanging weirdly off his body now that they aren’t attached to his skin anymore. Richie clears his throat, shutting the door as he shuffles into the room. This is the first time since they met that the silence hasn’t been comfortable. 

“You uh-- you wanna see what you look like?” Richie breaks the silence, because, being Richie, he probably can’t handle the way it hangs in the air between them. He takes a few long strides to another door, holding it open for him.

Eddie hesitates, because of course he wants to see. He spent the car ride catching glimpses in the side view mirror, dark hair and brown skin, but this… this is different. This is the chance to really look at himself, see himself in a way he never has before. Richie must see the fear plastered plainly on his face because he smiles and offers his hand.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to, but if it helps, I think you’re really somethin’ to look at.”

Eddie chuckles despite himself and Richie’s smile gets a little bigger. It eases some of the tension. Eddie is still wary, but Richie’s outstretched hand offers some solace and the curiosity in him is growing, so he takes the chance. He puts his hand in Richie’s and steps into the little room.

The lights in there are uncomfortably bright, a weird hue of unnatural white that highlights way too much, and a small rectangular mirror that shows everything from the chest up. Eddie’s own worried face looks back at him, an expression that quickly changes to something akin to amazed and delighted.

There, in the mirror, is him… it’s Eddie, but riddled with colors and details that have never been there before (if they had been, he’d forgotten about them long ago.) His skin is a sun-kissed hue of tan, with little brown freckles splattered across his nose and cheeks. Thick, dark eyebrows sit above wide, honey brown eyes, and they’re so bright! There’s not a grey in sight, not on his lashes or his lips or his fluffy hair… His fingers come up to prod at his cheek, laughing quietly at how soft and pliable it is. 

“Wow,” Eddie breathes out, pushing strands of hair out of his eyes, inches a little closer to his reflection. 

“Told ya,” Richie responds from behind him, looking just as awestruck as Eddie feels. Seeing Richie there, smiling, his mind wanders. He turns to face him, acutely aware of how much space is between them. 

“Can I touch you?” Eddie’s face feels warm, and despite his question, he places his palm against his own face, amazed by the warmth on his cheeks. Richie’s own face is pink, too, and Eddie wonders if it feels the same. 

“I thought you’d never ask, baby.” The joke might have passed if Richie’s voice didn’t pitch up in the middle. He gets redder and clears his throat. “Y-Yeah, go ahead.” Eddie can tell he’s making his voice deeper. His heart (and  _ oh, _ now  _ that _ is a concept. Eddie has never been so attuned to the feel of something rattling around in his chest, thumping against his ribcage) skips a beat knowing Richie is nervous, too. 

Eddie takes his time, though, wanting to really pay attention to everything. He reaches his hand out and places it on Richie’s cheek, delighting in how warm Richie’s blush makes it feel. His skin is soft, a little scratchy on the spots where his scruff has started to grow, and Eddie loves the difference in texture. His fingers drift upward, towards his messy curls. They’re soft too, but a lot thicker than Eddie had expected. He traces a little white line right above Richie’s eyebrow, the patch of raised skin a little tougher than the rest. Richie had told him it was a scar from when he crashed his bike into a tree. He follows down the bridge of his nose, a little bump in the middle (Richie had said he’d broken his nose twice.) 

Then, Eddie finally gets to his lips. He uses the tip of his thumb to brush against them. Richie lets out a shaky laugh that puffs against Eddie’s hand, sends a shiver down his spine. He’s always thought Richie’s lips were soft, but  _ now…  _ He’d never been more sure that his predicament as a living statue had deprived him of actual touch. There were little ridges all along them, a plush upper lip with barely any cupid's bow, a bottom one just as full to match. 

“ _ Wow… _ ” Eddie repeats, even more amazed than before.

“Well… I wouldn’t say all that.” Eddie is fixated on the way his mouth moves when he talks.

“Can I kiss you?” 

Richie is looking away when Eddie asks, eyes darting back to stare at Eddie in shock. He swallows, and it’s like the heat on his face radiates further, burning. Eddie spreads his fingers, palm flat, trying to absorb it. It feels like forever before Richie nods his approval.

Again, Eddie wants to take his time, because if just touching his face with his fingers had felt so different from before… he couldn’t begin to imagine what kissing would feel like. He leans forward, both hands holding Richie’s face now, and just barely presses their lips together. It’s a tiny brush of skin, as quick as a breath, and that alone sends sparks all along Eddie’s spine. Richie stands very still in front of him, a quick role reversal, waiting. Eddie leans back in, presses just a little bit more, lingers for longer, and if Richie is a match, then Eddie is a firework, feeling electric shocks along his whole body from the spark at where they’re connected. He parts his mouth, experimentally flicking his tongue against Richie’s bottom lip. Richie sighs and Eddie gets to swallow it up.

“Oh,  _ fuck. _ ” 

Until now, Richie had been keeping his hands politely at his side, but that last kiss must have stirred something up in him because in the next moment, Eddie is pressed flush against him, chest to chest, with one hand in his hair and the other gripping his hip. Eddie finds himself trying to focus on each new point of touch, hands and grips and lips, but gets dizzy even attempting to. Richie slides his tongue out to meet Eddie’s, a feeling he can't even  _ begin  _ to try and explain. His knees go weak and he leans heavier on Richie. 

“Y’good?” Richie mumbles the words against Eddie, pulling back just enough to say them. Eddie nods, follows the half centimeter distance that’s between them. That’s enough of a sign for Richie to keep going. 

He’s not sure how long they stay in there, with Richie holding Eddie up, leaning against the wall, kissing and kissing and  _ kissing… _ but Eddie can hardly take it. Every single nerve in his body is on fire; never, in his twenty-one years of life did he know something could feel so amazing. Richie is the only person he’s ever kissed, but Eddie has decided he is the best kisser in the world. His whole body feels so warm, and Richie is so warm, and--

“ _ Ah-ahh, fuck _ . Eds…” 

An electric shock shoots straight through Eddie’s body, from his ears right down to something building between his legs. He feels breathless, his face burning and his heart racing. He doesn’t care about anything except being completely wrapped up in Richie. 

“Rich,  _ m-more _ …” Eddie’s voice doesn’t even sound like his own, pitchy and desperate. He doesn’t care, he needs Richie to know that kissing is great, but he wants to feel everything. He’s never felt anything like this and he doesn’t want to stop. 

Richie doesn’t need much prompting, walking them backwards toward the bed in the center of the room. He positions them so that Eddie is sitting on his lap and his hands are holding him flush to his chest. Richie grabs the bottom of Eddie’s shirt and yanks up, tossing the garment to the floor. The action takes the breath away from him, his chest exposed for the first time that he can remember. Eddie can’t help himself, running his hands across the expanse of new skin. He shivers, rubbing along a little hardened nub on his left side. His breath hitches and he opens his eyes, staring down in shock. 

“Wh-what.. What is--”

Richie starts mouthing at his neck, trailing kisses across his shoulders and his collarbones. “Nipples, babe.”

Eddie swats at his head and Richie snickers. “I-I know what they  _ ahh _ \- are! W-why, uh--?” He can barely formulate sentences with the way Richie is going to town on his neck. 

“They’re sensitive to this kinda stuff.” Is what Richie says in response. 

“Can you kiss them, too?” Eddie blurts, staring wide-eyed at the man holding him. Richie blinks at him, looking a mix between terrified and amazed.

“I-I mean… yeah, but… I’m tryin’a take it slow here! This is your first, like,  _ hour  _ of being a human again! I don’t wanna overwhelm you!” Richie stutters, looking away again like he does when he has to share his feelings. The sentiment is sweet, though, and Eddie’s heart hammers loudly in his ears, his whole self filling up with affection. But...

He doesn’t want sweet, right now. 

“Richard.” Eddie breathes, using both his hands to force Richie to look at him. “Please overwhelm me.” 

Richie stares, his face going even darker red than before. A dazed little smile graces his face and he nods, licking his lips.  _ God _ those fucking  _ lips… _ Eddie has no idea how he’ll be able to function from now on, knowing how they  _ really  _ feel. He watches, entranced as Richie presses kisses to his chest, soft and deliberate. It’s fucking torture, waiting for him to put it where he  _ wants it-- _

“Oo _ oohh… _ ” Eddie throws his head back, pushes his chest a bit more toward Richie. It’s just the tip of his tongue, but holy  _ shit _ , it feels so good, and then Richie takes his nipple into his mouth and  _ sucks _ , and Eddie sees stars behind his eyes. “Oh, god,  _ what the fuck… _ ”

He can feel Richie’s smile on his chest, but he can also feel every little flick of his tongue, and the way his teeth scrape, and he  _ definitely _ feels the sudden  _ throb _ of heat between his legs that makes his hips stutter forward. 

“Wh- _ aaah... _ what is tha-at?” Eddie’s voice comes out in a breathless rush, trying to look down between their bodies, Richie's mop of hair blocking his view. 

“Your dick.” Richie drags his mouth across his chest and starts lavishing his other nipple with the same attention. Eddie whines and his hips buck forward again of their own accord “My w-what?”

“Babe, can we save the anatomy lesson for later?” Richie sounds just as flustered as Eddie feels. “It’s your dick and if I touch it, it will feel amazing.” He starts pressing kisses up his neck and across his jaw. Eddie feels like he’s on fire. 

“Then touch it.” 

Richie stops what he’s doing and Eddie lets out a dissatisfied click of his tongue. He just stares, like Eddie had just told him to cut his arm off. “Seriously?” 

It’s Eddie’s turn to frown, eyebrows furrowing together. Whatever is in his pants is fucking  _ aching _ , and Richie is just elongating the entire process, and not in a good way. Eddie grips a handful of his curls. “Now.” 

“Shit,  _ yeah,  _ okay. Yes sir.” Richie stutters around his words, looking like for the first time in his life he doesn’t know what to say. He gives Eddie a quick peck on the lips and starts moving backwards on the bed. “Here, get comfy, baby.” 

He starts adjusting the both of them so that Richie sits up against the headboard with his legs on either side of Eddie. Eddie sits between his legs, his back to Richie’s chest. The way they’re sitting gives Eddie a full view of himself, with the ability to rest his head back against Richie’s shoulder and his legs splayed open. It’s the first time he’s felt embarrassed since they started making out. He squirms and tries to adjust himself, but the tightness in his shorts is driving him crazy. Richie hooks his fingers under the waistband and pulls them down over Eddie’s legs, exposing the source of his ache to the both of them. 

“ _ Fuck,”  _ Richie gasps, pressing little kisses to the side of Eddie’s face, so gentle in comparison to the vice grip Richie has on Eddie’s thigh. “You tell me if we gotta stop, okay?” 

“Yeah, yes. I will.” Eddie nods frantically, staring down the line of his body, eager for Richie to do… whatever it is he’s going to do. 

“Here, suck.” Richie’s right hand comes up to Eddie’s face, fingers prodding at his mouth. Eddie opens his mouth obediently, because he trusts Richie and because the cold air on his skin is making him feel desperate for any touch at all. He closes his lips around Richie’s fingers, humming softly as they push in and out of his mouth. They press down on his tongue, forcing his mouth to part and saliva to drip down. Eddie whines again, feeling his cheeks burn as drool drips down his chin and over Richie’s hand, but he doesn’t stop licking and sucking until Richie pulls his fingers away. More saliva drips down Eddie’s chest, which is heaving with his effort to breathe normally. “Good, yeah, thank you.” 

Richie kisses his cheek again, and his hand, now coated in Eddie’s spit, reaches down to envelop Eddie in a loose grip.

Eddie, for his part, has officially lost all controllable thought. His back arches toward the slick grip around him, gasping out Richie’s name. The movement makes richies hand slide down towards the base of him and Eddie moans, his hand reaching up to tangle in Richie’s hair again. 

“Breathe, baby. Breathe.” Richie whispers in his ear, tethering him to some sort of reality. Eddie lets out a shuddery breath he had no idea he was holding in, sagging back against Richie’s solid form. “Yeah, that’s it. Just breathe for me, honey. Nice and steady. I’m gonna move my hand, okay? If it’s too much, you tell me and I’ll stop.” Richie keeps talking in Eddie’s ear, the hand that isn’t gripping him rubbing small circles onto his leg. He’s pressing little kisses to Eddie’s face, and the juxtaposition of how soft and sweet it all is while Eddie feels like he’s left his newly physical body  _ is _ too much. 

It’s  _ so much _ , but it’s fucking  _ amazing _ . Eddie never wants to feel less than this ever again, can’t imagine Richie  _ not _ touching him the way he is right now for the rest of his life. 

Richie is moving his fist now, stroking up and down. Eddie forces himself to open his eyes and look down, resting his forehead against Richies neck and watching what he does. Everything looks so out of focus, with only Richie’s slow, sure pumps in view. He pulls his fist up, twists around the swollen head and pulls down. Eddie starts breathing hard, his heart beating loudly in his ears. He tries to keep his breaths in time with Richie’s, in and out when he does. He’s doing okay until Richie moves his unoccupied hand to Eddie’s chest, rubbing at his nipple with sure circles. 

Eddie throws his head back and cries out, a pathetic little moan that cracks at the end. Richie starts mouthing at his throat, whispering words of affirmation in between. 

“That’s it, baby, just let go.” A kiss. “You look amazing like this, I love that you let me do this for you.” Another kiss, one that lingers by his jaw. “It’s okay, breathe, yeah, like that.” 

“Richie…” Eddie turns his head towards him, nuzzles into the space under Richie’s chin. “R-rich… I..  _ I— oh… oh, fuck!” _ Eddie’s brain turns to mush while his body becomes a live wire. Richie makes one twisting motion up and bites his throat, and he’s  _ gone _ , shooting stars behind his eyes in the dark. His back is arched and his hips jut forward into Richie’s hand, his own fisted into the sheets and in Richie’s hair. 

It’s a burst of immense pleasure, and then it’s gone, leaving Eddie boneless. He feels exhausted, every bit of his life force sucked out of him. He can feel Richie pushing strands of his hair out of his face, dotting his forehead and cheek with kisses. He blinks his eyes open and the world is a blurry mess of colors. He looks down and his stomach and chest are covered in white ribbons of sticky liquid. He looks over to ask Richie about it, but he catches him licking his hand, the same fluid coated in his fingers. 

“I’ve waited a long time for this.” Is the only explanation he offers, looking like the picture of someone in heaven as he shoves his middle finger in his mouth. It’s sort of obscene. 

“Have you thought about it?” Eddie watches him curiously, head tilted. Richie stares back and lifts his hand to Eddie’s face. He presses his thumb gently into Eddie’s mouth, letting him suck off the bead of white that’s there. Eddie makes a face, scrunching up his nose. 

“Ew.” 

Richie laughs and shrugs his shoulders. “Maybe It’s just cause I’m in love with you.” 

Eddie’s whole body tingles at the words, ready to melt now that whatever terrible ache had been building was finally satisfied, if only for the moment. His eyes glance down and he spots the bulge poking through Richie’s jeans. He licks his lips. 

“You don’t have to, Eds. You must be exhausted.” Richie’s words sound genuine, but he squirms despite himself. Eddie feels his heart rate start to pick up again. 

“No, I want to. I just… I’m not sure…?” Now It’s Eddie’s turn to look away, embarrassed with the fact that he’s not exactly sure what to do. Following his instincts with kissing is one thing, but this is a whole new ballpark. 

Richie nods, motioning for Eddie to move beside him. He wiggles his way out of his pants and pulls his boxers down, his own dick (? that’s what he’d called it, right?) coming into view. It’s sticking up straight, with the same white stuff leaking out of the tip and onto Richie’s stomach. Eddie had been too caught up to notice before, but Richie’s shirt had at some point joined his on the floor. Eddie reaches out a hand to pet at the dark hair that spreads along his chest and under his navel. 

Richie sucks in a breath and squirms again. He adjusts the both of them again so they lay side by side on the pillows, facing each other. Eddie can’t help but notice he looks nervous again, so he pushes forward and kisses his forehead, trailing kisses down his nose and to his lips. Richie smiles, visibly more relaxed. 

“Just… follow along.” Richie chuckles again and grabs Eddie’s hand. Just like he’d done before with his own hand, Richie takes Eddie’s fingers into his mouth and sucks, rolling his tongue around the digits and swallowing. The wet heat and the pressure makes Eddie’s dick twitch again, still so sensitive from before. Richie looks like just that alone is turning him on, and that in turn makes a jolt go down Eddie’s spine. 

When Eddie’s hand is slick with spit, Richie pulls it out of his mouth, a string of saliva connecting them. His lips are shiny and Eddie doesn’t hesitate to kiss him, messy and wet, while Richie guides his hand down to the warmth between them. 

His hand wraps around Eddie’s, which wraps around him, and Eddie has to pull back with a gasp to look. It’s so soft, so much softer than any other part of Richie, and it’s not warm… it’s  _ hot,  _ stiff in his hand. He gives an experimental squeeze and Richie whines. Eddie desperately wants to hear it again. 

Richie starts to move their hands, slowly, up and down. He nuzzles his nose against Eddie’s, whispering through his heavy breaths. 

“Y-yeah, just…  _ oh _ , yes.” Richie’s eyes are screwed shut, but Eddie is watching, taking in every little twitch of his face. Eventually, Richie lets go, brings both his hands up to hold Eddie’s face and pull him in to kiss. He moans and pleads against his lips. 

“Oh,  _ oh,  _ Eddie,  _ fuck. _ ” Richie raises his hips up to meet Eddie’s fist, and Eddie, ever the quick learner, starts getting bold. He squeezes again as he did before, tries the twisty motion Richie had done to him. Richie starts to moan out his name, teeth clenched and breathing hard. 

“Rich…” Eddie whispers, pressing kisses to Richie’s cheeks, nose, his eyelids. “Hey, look at me.” 

Richie opens his eyes, pupils blown wide and unfocused in a way that makes Eddie want to smother him. 

“I’m in love with you, too.” 

Eddie guesses he must have done something right, because Richie’s eyebrows scrunch together, his mouth opens just a bit, and with a beautifully unhinged whine, Richie shudders and something warm and wet and sticky floods Eddie’s palm. 

They’re both breathing hard, foreheads pressed together. Richie looks spent, face flushed and hair in disarray. It’s fucking beautiful. 

Eddie leans forward and kisses him, slow and lazy, pouring all the adoration he feels into it. 

They stay like that for as long as Eddie can handle. Eventually though, it all becomes too much, in a bad way, sticky and sweaty and hot. Richie helps him up on his wobbly legs and gets them to the bathroom. He sits Eddie down by the edge of the tub and starts the shower up. 

Eddie follows along where Richie leads him, barely awake. They step into the shower under the warm spray and Richie lets him lean against his chest again. He helps Eddie get washed and then dried, and by the time they’re back in the bed, Eddie laying on his chest, they both look like they’d run a marathon. 

Eddie likes to feel the way Richie’s chest moves up and down when he breathes. He likes how warm he is. He likes eating the  _ thump thump _ of his heart under his ear. 

Before, he’d been too scared to put too much weight on Richie, unsure of the logistics of stone versus human. 

Scared… who would have thought that was the source of all of this? 

“Are you okay?” Richie’s voice breaks the silence, his fingers playing with strands of Eddie’s hair.

Eddie isn’t sure how to respond. On one hand, he was a living statue just a few hours ago, with no knowledge that he had the power to break the spell the entire time. This time yesterday, he didn’t know his mother was a liar, keeping him trapped for her own selfish benefits. He was newly human, with no understanding of how to assimilate into the world yet. 

On the other hand… 

“I’m with you… and that makes it better.” He looks up at Richie and smiles. 

Richie smiles back and kisses his forehead. 

They fall asleep wrapped up in each other’s arms. 


End file.
